


In The Service Of The Empress Nouveau

by boxofbreath



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofbreath/pseuds/boxofbreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pity me i wish i'd never promised to do this</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Service Of The Empress Nouveau

God, you're sick of seadwellers.

It's not as if it's only double-stacked teeth you get snapping in your face most of the night, but it's always the saltlickers who have the most venom in their snarls.

The last one legitimately spat in your face. It was a struggle not to reach up and wipe it off, but you know that that would be just an invitation for more abuse. They're not allowed to touch you - you're  _vokshulkat_ , they whisper it with such awe - but they can be as vicious as they like with their words.

And now you find out who it is you've been waiting for all these sweeps of doing little other than target practice and Respecting Your Superiors.

Of course, you always knew she'd have fins - only a seadweller would be able to afford the vast amount they're spending on just keeping you alive - but it's still an anti-climax when you're introduced to some gap-toothed six-sweep-old with an awful haircut and an even worse attitude.

She calls you  _Seni_  and grimaces like she has a mouthful of broken glass.

-

Your life settles into a steady, if monotonous rhythm. You wake up before sunset. You do target practice with whichever mindless follower doesn't object to your presence. You read whatever you can get your hands on - mostly shitty romances borrowed from the other trolls that share your compound - and wait until you are summoned to the presence of the obnoxiously named Aardan-Omasi. She gives you the grimace you have come to expect and gestures vaguely to the chair on her right side. 

You understand that you are ridiculously lucky just to get that much attention.

-

You are torn from your book - yet another shitty romance, this one a worryingly niche pale parable - by an imperious command.

"Seni-hesiki. Va'esh."

"Sal, Omasi?"

"Saglusht’t Khis Lakheh. Rredz."

Angaan Lakheh. Probably one of the most obnoxious people you have ever met, currently heading the list of 'Most Likely To End Up On The Bad End OF A Culling Fork'. Remarkably good at not getting killed.

You fetch.

-

Lakheh saunters into the room, smirks at you, and offers a half-hearted bow in the direction of the heiress.

"Ha'yenya, Omasi."

Her head snaps up at a dangerous speed. He backtracks.

"Miramat ker anasui, Omasi. Reshos suri, Omasi."

You reconsider his survival ability. Aardan's lip twitches (an unconscious habit that would be endearing if it wasn't so cliche) and curls back. A visibly receding Lakheh is treated to the full shark-tooth.


End file.
